


Sometimes on Fourth Down, You Just Have to Go For It

by uofmdragon



Series: Sometimes even Underdogs Can Have Comeback Victories [1]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Backstory, College Football, Football, Get Together, M/M, Sports, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 17:17:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uofmdragon/pseuds/uofmdragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sports have always been a part of Clint's life from those rare peaceful moments with his father to watching a game with his new friend, Phil and football has always been a favorite of his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sometimes on Fourth Down, You Just Have to Go For It

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Emma for the beta.

Clint doesn’t grow up in what most people would consider a broken home. His parent’s never divorced, never separated, and Clint never considered what his parent’s did as fighting (His father overpowered his mother, and she never stood up for herself or her children).  He does grow up in a home where fear is a constant factor.  Survival, or at least less pain, depends on him knowing the danger signs of when his father is about to erupt.  Clint has those signs beaten into him with a belt and hand at an early age.  
  
Peace is a rare thing in the Barton household and occurs only under three circumstances. 1) When Harold Barton is out of the house, 2) When Harold is sleeping/passed out, and 3) When Harold is watching the game and his team is winning.  During the third time, Clint can sit with his father and watch the games.  He doesn’t understand what’s happening but he learns to duck and make himself scarce when the team with the red helmets fails to catch the ball. Clint learns to stay away when the team in black and gold plays the team in red and gold. It’s far safer to just stay away whenever those teams meet up.  They watch other sports, but peace lasts longer during football.  
  
Clint’s parents die in a car accident when Clint is six.  Barney and him are immediately shuffled off to an all boys orphanage.  There’s a whole new social situation and new cliques to navigate.  Clint has always looked up to Barney so he fits in with the younger group of boys that worship the older group.  At the local school there’s another group of friends that happened to be friends with a couple of other orphans in Barney’s age group.  Occasionally they’ll show up to make use of the orphanage’s large backyard.  TJ is the coolest boy in the school and his best friend Jason, who also befriends Barney, which meant Clint liked to follow along after them as well.  
  
It’s in his second year at the orphanage, at the start of the brief summer vacation that Clint gets when TJ shows up with a tire and a rope.  TJ, Jason, Barney, and a few others in that age group trudge out to the backyard. Clint and a few others head out to sit and watch.  Barney is the one that scampers up the tree with one end of the rope and together they set up a tire swing.  
  
“Are we going to get a swing?” Luke, one of newer kids, asks. He’s already figured that anything they have in the backyard is something they made.  
  
“Doubt it,” Clint says, because he knows how the older group will hog it or use it to torment the younger kids by pushing them too hard or too high.  Clint frowns when he sees how high the swing is put up and knows that they’re definitely up to something and it isn’t swinging.  
  
Barney drops down to the ground and the group of older boys gather around TJ as he talks.  Eventually Barney goes inside and comes out with one of the footballs.  Soon they’re lined up and trying to throw the ball through the tire.  Clint is unsurprised when Barney calls him over and tells him to go get the ball and bring it back to him.  Clint does this a couple of times before he gets tired and just throws it at TJ.  
  
“Nice throw,” TJ says catching the first one, effectively shutting Barney and Jason up and preventing them from calling him lazy. TJ is the best at getting the ball through the tire and Jason is kind of horrible at it.    
  
“Man I bet my little brother can throw better than you,” Barney challenges as Jason’s throw goes wide again.  
  
“Yeah, right,” Jason says.  
  
“There’s no reason why he can’t try on the throw back to us,” TJ points out.  “Go ahead, Clint. Put it through the tire.”  
  
Clint listens as he gets the ball and nervously goes to throw. The first one is wide.  The second one hits the tire and ricochets back at him.  The third one goes through the tire as does the fourth, fifth, and sixth one.  The seventh Clint makes go really wide when he notices how pissed off Jason is looking.  Barney is looking smug, and TJ is looking impressed.  
  
From that moment on, he’s got a bit of a friend in TJ and an enemy in Jason.  If they’ve got uneven teams for something TJ will usually suggest they include Clint, especially if it’s for something athletic. Typically football because TJ loves football.  It sucks when they’re playing touch football because normally Jason is on the other team and he never forgives Clint for showing him up when they do ‘target practice’ with the tire swing.  It’s alright though, Clint wouldn’t trade it for anything because he got to hang with the older kids and when they got tired of it and headed inside to watch a game he’d get to be included and wouldn’t be put on gopher duties to the kitchen for snacks.  It takes a couple of games to not duck when the team with the red helmets (Iowa State, he learns) does something bad.    
  
Its going on six years at the orphanage when TJ invites Barney and Jason to go to an actual college game with his family.  Not Iowa or Iowa State, but Northern Iowa. Jason and Barney brag about it for weeks. Clint makes Barney promise to tell him all about it.  
  
The evening before the game, Mrs. Cunningham catches Jason picking on Clint.  Is almost laughable that he gets caught doing something so mild. Then Mrs. Cunningham gives Jason his punishment and Clint can hardly believe it.  Jason is stunned and judging by the glare he shoots at Clint, well, he clearly blames Clint.  Clint decides the best thing to do is spend the next day up a tree.    
  
The next morning Clint waits to see his brother off, though he’s less excited because he knows that encouraging Barney to talk about it will only end up in Jason getting angrier. Mrs. Cunningham is waiting at the door when TJ and his dad show up.  
  
“Morning, ma’am. Lovely day for some football,” TJ’s father says brightly.  TJ bounds out of the car, heading for Barney.  “Where’s Jason?”  
  
“I have some bad news,” Mrs. Cunningham says, “I caught Jason bullying one of the boys last night, I’m afraid I can’t let him get away with that.”  
  
TJ looks disappointed but TJ’s father solemnly nods. “I understand.”  
  
“Barney can still go,” Mrs. Cunningham informs them.  
  
“Still leaves us with an extra ticket,” JT’s dad says, considering it.  
  
“I’m sorry it’s so last minute, but he just did this last night and I’ve had reports of other times,” Mrs.  Cunningham apologizes.  
  
“Are there any of your friends that you know are free?” TJ’s dad asks, looking at his son.    
  
“Have fun, Barn,” Clint says, softly, intending to follow them out and circle around back to the trees.    
  
“Clint’s cool,” TJ says, causing Clint to freeze and glance up, realizing he now has the two adults’ full attention.  
  
“Is he well behaved?” TJ’s Dad asks Mrs. Cunningham.  
  
“So long as Barney is,” Mrs. Cunningham says.  
  
“And I promised to behave,” Barney chips in, “So Clint will behave. He’s my younger brother.”  
  
“Well son, what do you say? Want come with?” TJ’s dad asks, looking at Clint with kind eyes.  
  
Clint can hardly believe his luck and almost forgets to do anything until Barney elbows him and growls at him to nod. Clint nods his head and it’s settled, Clint is going to the football game.  
  
They load into the car and head out. They park near the stadium and eat sandwiches that TJ’s mom had prepared beforehand while sitting on the open end of the back of TJ’s Dad’s van.  They play catch with a football when there aren’t any cars coming in to park then they head into the game. Clint sticks close to TJ’s Dad while Barney and TJ take off.  He’s younger and doesn’t mind being left with the adult because he can ask all kinds of questions about football during the game and TJ’s Dad is happy to talk to him about it. Northern Iowa wins and they go back.  The day is the best and doesn’t matter that Jason hits him as soon as Mrs. Cunningham has her back turned.  
  
It’s also a turning point in Clint’s life as Jason starts shunning Barney in an effort to get Clint away from his best friend. He lies to TJ about Barney and Clint and suddenly TJ doesn’t spend time with them anymore.  Losing his friends is Barney’s last straw and he decides to run away from the orphanage.  Clint isn’t about to let his brother leave without him and he goes to.  Barney’s plan is to take them to the Circus and they soon get hired mucking out the pens of animals.  Its hard work, but it’s also a bit of freedom.  
  
There’s no TV in the circus, so he immediately gives up on the idea of watching games but there are so many other interesting things.  It takes him months to realize that football is happening if he just listens.  The games are broadcasted over the radio and the members of the circus listen as they work.  It’s hard for Clint to hear it sometimes and what he does hear he doesn’t understand as he doesn’t know the positions or the names of players well enough to picture the plays as they’re happening.  
  
What he can hear are the others talking about it, commenting on what the team should have done, or the crowing laughter of one of the crew as his team defeats another crew member’s favourite.  He watches as the Bearded Lady and Muscle Man (both from Oregon, but two very different sides of Oregon) shoot glares at one another for a whole week before ‘the Civil War’ and then watches as the loser tries unsuccessfully to avoid the winner.  He learns about other rivalries and so much more just from watching the interactions of the people around him.  He learns the difference between college football (being paid with an education) versus pro football (being paid with money) and about coaches, bowl games, and dynasties. Really he learns all these things about numerous sports, but his favourite is football.  
  
Eventually Clint can picture those plays that he’s never seen and learns to practice for his act with a game playing the background.  They’re close enough to Lincoln that they can pick up the Nebraska-Iowa State game.  He’s drawing the bowstring back and catches as the Iowa State’s Quarterback takes the snap.  Clint holds his stance as he listens to the announcers describing the passing play as it's caught and the receiver is heading up field.  Clint releases the arrow when the receiver is at the ten.  Clint smirks as the arrow hits the bull’s-eye just as the announcer yells out “Touchdown! Cyclones!”  
  
After the circus and his relationship with Barney falling apart, Trickshot, and the Swordsman, Clint reconsiders his life.  He wants to use his skills and decides he wants to help people so he enlists in the Marines due to the fact their targets were the most challenging.    
  
His range scores are excellent.  He’s in great physical condition.  However he can’t take orders without questioning them and when it comes to classes, well, he’d rather be out shooting.  The military is something completely new to him and considering the structure he’s spent the last six years avoiding and that the last time he followed orders unthinkingly it blew up in his face he questions everything which earns him no points.  The worse thing is he can’t practice with a bow.  He gets in trouble and it’s not until he’s on his last chance that he realizes he really wants this, he doesn’t want to fail.  It’s too late though. He tries to shape up but the hole he dug for himself is too deep and he washes out.  
  
After that Clint falls into a life of crime because he can’t go back to the circus and he can’t go back to the military.  He’s uneducated and no one will hire him. What he can do is shoot.  He tries to choose the jobs that don’t make his skin crawl, but when he has choose between eating and dealing with creeps, he chooses eating every time.  The only time he gets close to any sporting event is when he goes and pickpockets the fans of a game for a little extra cash.  He feels horrible about it but then he remember what they paid for a ticket and they can probably afford to lose a little money. He tries to hit up the bigger games (Texas-Oklahoma, Michigan-Ohio State, Bama-Auburn, etc). It still feel wrong but during the game he can sit and listen to the announcers. Wishing for a normal life. He never stays in one place for very long but eventually he gets caught. Not pick pocketing but stealing what turns out to be state secrets.  
  
He goes to prison for that.  The bright side is that now he can watch sports again.  The military taught him how to take orders, and he learns its best to bite his lip around the guards if he wants to watch the games.  It’s the only thing he has going for him right now so he does.  Clint gives up on ever shooting his bow again.  
  
Clint is watching what he honestly thinks is going to be the Buckeyes beating up on their opponent (they’re already up 14-0), when one of the guards steps in.    
  
“Barton, you got a visitor.”  
  
“Now?” Clint asks, glancing away from the television.  
  
“Yep, they just showed up. Get a move on,” the guard says.  
  
Clint casts one glance back at the TV before getting to his feet. The Buckeyes probably have this in the bag anyway.  He gets escorted to a private visitation room to find a woman in a cat suit.  
  
“Hey baby,” Clint says, going to take a seat.  “I don’t suppose that this is some sort of conjugal visit?”  
  
“Mr. Barton,” The woman says, “I’m here to discuss your prison sentence with you.”  
  
“Don’t you need my lawyer here for that?” Clint asks.  
  
“Your lawyer doesn’t have the clearance to bring this offer to you.”  
  
“Clearance?” Clint asks, tilting his head.  
  
“I work with the Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division...”  
  
“That’s a mouthful,” Clint interrupts.  
  
“And we’re in need of someone with a certain set of skills which, according to your military record, you possess.”  
  
Clint snorts, “My military record? You want an insubordinate asshole?”  
  
“But you won’t be insubordinate. You wanted one more chance at your hearing. Stated you didn’t have anything else and you thought the marines could give you a purpose but you’d only just realized it.”  
  
Clint bites his lip, glancing away. He doesn’t want to remember how much he begged, only to be refused.  
  
“Why’d you join the Marines, Barton?  Why not the Army?”  
  
“Marines required their targets to be further back,” Clint answers honestly.  “Wanted a challenge in shooting.”  
  
“Is that why you enlisted? So you could shoot things?”  
  
“I wanted to do some good,” Clint admits. “I thought I could do that with ‘em.”  
  
“And yet you turned to a life of crime the second you were discharged.”  
  
Clint’s head pops up as he glares.  
  
“Didn’t have any money. I had to eat.“  
  
The woman gives him with a long, measuring look.  
  
Clint meets her gaze, trying to look confident and calm.  He hated what he had to do some days, but he needed to do something. She does stop staring at him.    
  
“Listen, I made mistakes in who I chose to do jobs for but I didn’t have anywhere else to turn. I did what I had to.”  
  
“You still want that second chance, Barton?”  
  
“I don’t think they’ll take a convicted felon,” Clint admits, eyeing her warily.  
  
“They won’t, but we will,” the woman replies.  
  
“That Strategic thing,” Clint asks.  
  
“Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division,” She repeated.  “We’d give you your second chance. We’d train you; put your skills where we think they can do the most good. In return you won’t have to sit here and waste away until they let you out.  Of course, once they do you let out, it’ll only be a matter of time before you end up back in here because, how’d you put it, ‘You don’t have anything else.’”  
  
Clint glares, furious at that, but he knows it’s the hard truth.    
  
“So I work my prison term off with you? Somehow I get the feeling I’m going to be risking my life for you”  
  
“We’ll commute your sentence to three years, provided you behave yourself, you’ll...”  
  
“And if I don’t behave myself?” Clint asks.  
  
“It’ll be more like seven. You’ll live at HQ until it’s served but we’ll feed you, pay you, and provide you with the best weaponry available,” she informs him.  “And when your sentence is served, you can go or you can stay.”  
  
“I want a bow,” Clint states.  
  
“A bow? As in a bow and arrows?” She asked, clearly flabbergasted.  
  
“I’m better with a bow than I am with a gun,” Clint states.  
  
Her eyes narrow, “We’ll see about that.  Does that mean you’re accepting the offer?”  
  
Clint is quiet as he considers for a long moment, before nodding, “As long as I can have the bow.”  
  
“We can provide one for personal use; I’m not making promises when it comes to missions until I see you with one.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Clint relents, as long as he can shoot.  “Ms...  
  
“Agent Hill,” she replies.  
  
“Fair enough Agent Hill,” Clint says with a nod and grudgingly adds, “I accept your terms.”  
  
“Good,” Agent Hill replies.  
  
He’s gets his few belongings from his cell and storage and is released into Hill’s custody.  They’re in the car and headed to HQ and Hill is explaining the procedure once they get there, but the radio catches Clint’s ear. He quiets Hill; eyes narrow as he listens to the announcer repeat the scores one more time and can’t help but smile as he hears about the Buckeye’s surprising defeat, underdog wins all around.  
  
SHIELD HQ is almost like the circus when it comes to downtime.  The games play on the radios at desks if there isn’t any impending doom and often a game will be on in a rec room somewhere.  Clint spends his first few months getting glimpses of games, but he’s too busy with Hill’s training. She pushes and it’s in the second month that she lets it drop that she’s a former marine as well. She also gives him a bow and he amazes her on the target range with it.  
  
He finally gets a chance to sit and watch a game. Its basketball but its Iowa basketball and he crashes in one of the lounges with it on. It’s not long before some of the other agents come to join him. They’re alright guys and they’ve run a couple of missions together.  It’s not long before one of the guys, Curtis, looks at the screen and then looks at Clint.  
  
“So are you codenamed Hawkeye, because you’re a fan of them?”  
  
“No, I’m codenamed Hawkeye, because I have good eyes,” Clint reminds him. “And I don’t miss.”  
  
“So you’re a fan of them off because your codename is Hawkeye?” Curtis asks.  
  
“No, I’m from Iowa,” Clint states, shooting a glare.  
  
Curtis gives him a dubious look but falls silent.  He isn’t the first and the few times he stops to catch the scroll and gets caught reacting to Iowa winning or losing he gets treated to similar questions. It annoys him but he makes it through a year of it.  Then Hill lets him off the leash and he can leave HQ without a keeper.  
  
Clint finds a bar that is a ten minutes walk from Shield HQ. It’s far enough away that no one from SHIELD is likely to join him. It’s a small sports bar and he can get a burger and a beer and linger for as long as he likes, even when he switches to water on those rare occasions where he can watch all day.  He makes sure to tip big and keep to a smaller table out of the way which has a great view of one of the TVs.  He finds it in the winter and goes there to watch basketball.  
  
During baseball season he gains a rival.  It’s not really a rivalry at first, but he comes in to watch a baseball game and finds his usual table taken by man in a suit.  Clint lets it slide but it happens again a couple days later.  Clint manages to get the table a few days after that and is just settling when the suited man arrives. Clint gives him a mock salute and smug smile because he got the table.  The man gives him a semi-amused smile and finds another table.  They spend baseball season competing to get the table, acknowledging one another with a simple nod of the head.  
  
The Suit. as Clint mentally refers to him, makes him slightly nervous.  He can tell that The Suit works for someone in the business - FBI, CIA, or even SHIELD.  SHIELD is a big place and Clint doesn’t know everyone.  He’s got a few people he’d hesitatingly call friends and he’s had a couple handlers.  He works with Sitwell and Hill the most.  The Suit could work for anyone, even an enemy of SHIELD. Clint doesn’t think he’s enemy. Maybe a competitor, but they don’t talk so he doesn’t worry about it.  He never goes back to SHIELD the same way and makes sure to lose any tails.  There are times he goes that The Suit isn’t there. He elects not to worry about it until things come to a head during football season.  
  
The bar is packed for an early game. It’s the big game according to the sports announce but Clint doesn’t care. It’s also the weekend of the Cy-Hawk game and he gets their early to get his table. By now the bartenders know him and will turn on the Big Ten games for him on the closest TV.  Clint is rather caught up and doesn’t notice that the bar has filled up while he watches the game until there’s the cough to his side.  Clint glances over to find his suited rival standing there.  
  
“Uh, yeah?” Clint asks, because neither of them has approached the other and if The Suit thinks he’s just going to hand over the table this week he’s got another thing coming.  
  
“I was wondering if I could join you?” The Suit says. “There’s only space at the bar and I’d rather watch Iowa play than Syracuse.”  
  
“You going to cheer for Iowa?” Clint asks.  
  
“I tend to cheer for the Big Ten, I’m from Illinois,” The Suit says.  
  
“I don’t know then,” Clint replies, glancing around the bar and seeing that he is right, it's completely packed in here.  “I’m cheering for the Cyclones.”  
  
“Oh,” The suit says, looking surprised, “I thought you normally cheer for Iowa?”  
  
“When they don’t play the Cyclones,” Clint says, nudging a chair out of him with his foot.  
  
The Suit glances and then looks back at Clint but Clint nods as the suit takes it.    
  
“That doesn’t seem right for a rivalry game, like a Michigan State fan cheering for Michigan.”  
  
“Well, I’m more of a Northern Iowa fan,” Clint admits, “Good luck finding that on TV though.”  
  
“No, I imagine it wouldn’t be,” The suit agrees.  “So, really, you just chose a team?”  
  
“For this one yeah,” Clint agrees with a nod. “Cheer for the Cyclones in the Big Twelve, Cheer for the Hawkeyes in the Big Ten, and then pick and choose.”  
  
“I like the Wildcats in the Big Ten myself,” The Suit answers.  
  
“They’ve had a couple of good years,” Clint agrees, thinking about it.  
  
“Yeah,” The Suit agrees, “So has Iowa. Certainly creating a bit more parity in the Big Ten.”  
  
Clint chuckles as he agrees, “No longer the Buckeyes and the Wolverines and those other guys.”  
  
The Suit nods and digs into his sandwich as they watch the game, complementing various plays.  It’s actually pretty fun. They don’t discuss work or anything besides football.  When the Cyclones win, he casts a grin at The Suit.  
  
“They played well,” The Suit admits.  
  
“So did the Hawkeyes,” Clint agrees, he hesitates, before asking, “You staying for another one?”  
  
“Unfortunately I need to get back to work,” The Suit says. “Maybe some other time.”  
  
“Sounds good,” Clint agrees.    
  
Two weeks later he comes in and finds The Suit at their table. Clint finds another table and when the waitress comes by, she already has a beer for him and an invitation from The Suit to join him. Clint can’t resist. The Suit greets him with a smile.    
  
“Missed you last week,” The Suit says.  
  
“Yeah, I was... busy,” Clint replies.  
  
The Suit gives him an appraising look and Clint can’t help but feel that he’s being judged. The Suit nods and doesn’t ask any other questions about what Clint was doing. Clint settles and they start watching the game, discussing it and what they might do differently. The game ends and The Suit has to get back to work.  
  
They meet up through most of football season, but Clint’s schedule picks up again. He misses all the November games, can’t quite make it on any Sunday and then there’s the few weeks of dead season for college games - the time between the end of the regular season and before the bowl games.  The Suit doesn’t show up to any of the basketball games that Clint goes to catch.  Clint kind of misses having him there to dissect the game with.  
  
It’s a cold New Years Day and while there are ops being run there’s nothing for Clint to do so he slips out to the bar and snags his table to watch the bowl games.  The crowd is lighter than usual but he figures most were out partying last night. The Rose Bowl is just about to start when someone enters the bar. Clint glances at the door, and can’t quite hide the grin as The Suit wanders in. Clint is spotted quickly and the other man makes his way down.  
  
“Long time no see,” Clint says as The Suit takes of his overcoat.  
  
“I’ve been here,” The Suit replied.  
  
“So have I,” Clint states, giving him a questioning look.  
  
“Not on hockey nights,” The Suit replies as he takes a seat, “Not a fan I take it?”  
  
“No,” Clint shakes his head.  The Circus liked to head to warmer climates for the winter and Clint is still adjusting to the cold New York weather.  He’s grateful that he’s at least got someplace to go that has heating, even if it is a windowless box in SHIELD’s barracks.  
  
“Iowa isn’t that far South,” The Suit says.  
  
“Never appealed to me.  I like basketball,” Clint shrugs  
  
“Never really followed basketball,” The Suit admits. “Though I will admit to filling out one of those March Madness brackets for the work pool. I have yet to win.”  
  
Clint grins, “Yeah, I did one of those last year for the first time, didn’t do so well.”  He shakes his head.  “I’d do better if they had a play off for football. I know football so much better.”  
  
“Shame, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them fill ‘em out for the pro playoffs,” The Suit says, tilting his head as he considers.  
  
“Neither have I,” Clint shakes his head.  “I like pro ball, but...  
  
“There’s nothing professional in Iowa?”  
  
“Basically,” Clint agrees with a nod.  
  
“You could cheer for Chicago,” The Suit suggests, with an amused half-grin.  
  
“Could cheer for Minnesota, too,” Clint retorts.  
  
The Suit nods his head and smiles as he adds, “As long as it’s not the Packers.”  
  
Clint tilts back and laughs, before shaking his head, “Honestly...”  
  
“Oh please don’t,” The Suit starts.  
  
“I liked the city of Green Bay a lot better than I did Chicago, so...” Clint admits.  
  
“No,” The Suit says, shaking his head.  
  
“I think I’d have to go to the Packers in that game,” Clint finishes, reaching over to pat The Suit on his shoulder.  
  
“You were such a nice person. I have to hate you now,” The Suit says, mournfully.  
  
Clint shrugs, “Of course I could just cheer for the perpetual underdogs in that series, which would be Da Bears.”  
  
The Suit looks up at him, glaring slightly, “You know when you put it like that I don’t think I want you cheering for my team.  You go ahead and cheer for those cheeseheads.”  
  
Clint can’t help, but laugh at that.  
  
“I’ll have you know that we’re still beating them overall,” The Suit points out.  
  
“Right and how long do you think that’s going to last with the way things are going right now?” Clint asks.  
  
“Dynasties rise and fall.  The Bears will bounce back,” The Suit says firmly.  
  
“I hope it starts happening soon,” Clint states.  
  
“Shush,” The Suit says, “New topic, who are you rooting for?” He indicates the screen with a nod of his head.  
  
Clint considers, “I suppose I can cheer for Wisconsin, that way you can hate me a little less.”  
  
“I don’t know if that’s possible right now,” The Suit deadpans.  
  
“Do I need to offer drinks?” Clint asks.  
  
“You want to be back in my good graces that badly?” The Suit asks, blinking in surprise.  
  
“I like talking to you, rather you not find another table,” Clint nods.  
  
“How about a name then?” The Suit’s smile is hesitatingly small, but very real.    
  
“Clint,” he says easily enough and extends his hand.  
  
“Phil,” The Suit says, taking his hand and shaking it.  “It’s nice to meet you Clint.”  
  
“Likewise,” Clint says, smiling at him. He has no idea if Phil is the other man’s actual name or if it’s just a cover but Clint thinks it suits him. Their conversations stick mostly to the game, never mentioning work or really their personal lives unless it involves sports in some way. To Clint it’s just confirmation that they both are working for some clandestine government sanctioned force. It's good. Clint doesn't mind one bit.  
  
Clint meets up with Phil for a few of the last pro games and then they go their separate ways.  Phil to watch his hockey games and Clint to watch the basketball games.  Clint refuses to admit how much he misses having Phil around and looks forward to baseball season.  
  
Of course during that time he’s working with Kurtis and others under Hill’s supervision.  He’s working hard and keeping out of trouble.  He pushes at some of the rules and while he does do a sweep of the air ducts where he’s allowed to be he doesn’t actually go in those areas that are out of bounds for him. He lets others assume that he has been there and watches as Hill tries to find evidence.  Three years is up this fall and he knows to keep his nose as clean as possible because Hill is looking for him to do something wrong and extend his prison contract.  Clint is determined not to give her the satisfaction.  
  
Between forcing himself to behave and missing Phil like crazy Clint hits the range a bit more often and genuinely tries to avoid the other SHIELD members however he can. Every night he goes to sleep wishing the next day was the opening day of baseball season and that he could go to the bar and meet up with Phil again. He misses the other man’s company.  
  
Clint dreams of Phil one night, of watching a football game and leaning in to kiss him at their table.  Phil responding, kissing him back, encouraging Clint closer and into his lap.  Clint can feel Phil’s hardness beneath him, feels himself responding.  Phil’s hands are roaming, stroking down Clint’s back.  Clint pulls back to breath, and to look at Phil, because he wants to see Phil with swollen lips.  He opens his eyes  finds himself in barren SHIELD assigned room, hard and wanting.  He groans and rolls over, curling around himself as he thinks.  
  
Phil is the closest thing he’s had a friend in a long time and Clint wishes he could spend more time with him.  He’s almost done with SHIELD. He could find something else.  Maybe he could work at whatever acronym Phil works for.  Then they wouldn’t have secrets, and maybe Phil would be interested in more than just friendship. He snorts softly because Phil is intelligent and probably has no interest in a nobody like Clint.  Hell, Clint doesn’t even know if Phil is interested in guys. Clint tries to drift back to sleep.  
  
Of course with how desperate Clint is to see Phil it’s only his luck that he’s actually given a mission that takes him halfway around the world for the opening game.  It goes horribly, but Clint doesn’t disobey orders so it’s really all on Hill and her underlings.  The worst part is the number he does on his arm.  It breaks badly and to make sure it heals right, they have to operate on it.  It means he’s in medical for a couple of days.  However, he’s off missions for the next two months while he heals so he’s practically in the clear.  
  
Clint heads to the bar to claim his table and wait for Phil to show up.  Its only when he’s standing outside that he realizes that there just might not be a game on. He forges in and figures he can at least eat something.  His table’s free and he grabs it.  He smiles as he realizes there is fact a game on and the question is now whether or not Phil will show up.  He doesn’t the first day but when Clint goes back a few days later Phil shows up.  
  
“Hey,” Clint greets, smiling at him.  
  
“Hello Clint,” Phil says, as he takes a seat. “How was basketball?”  
  
“Decent,” Clint replies. “How was hockey?”  
  
“Could have gone better,” Phil replies, frowning.  
  
“Team didn’t do well?” Clint asks.  
  
Phil nods.  
  
“Sucks, man,” Clint replies.  
  
“How’d your team do?” Phil asks.  
  
“Not horrible, but not great,” Clint replies.  “It happens when you cheer for the little guy.”  
  
Phil nods, “It does.”  
  
The waitress returns with Clint’s burger that he’d ordered before Phil’s arrival and gets Phil’s order. Clint goes to pick up the burger, and really there’s no hiding that the bit of cast that comes up and wraps around his thumb. The rest of the cast is under a baggy sweatshirt.  
  
“What happened to your arm?” Phil asks, looking concerned.  Clint is touched and happy to realize that Phil does at least return his friendship.  
  
“Broke it working,” Clint replies with a slight shrug.  
  
Phil gives him a long look the a nod.  Clearly he’s not going to breach their unspoken ‘No work’ rule today.  
  
“Personally, I think it’s a blessing in disguise,” Clint admits, deciding he wants to break the rule just a bit. Phil gives him a questioning look at that. “Contract is up in the fall and I think I’m ready for a change.”  
  
“Oh?” Phil asks, looking mildly alarmed. “What are you thinking about doing?”  
  
“Not sure yet,” Clint replies, “Got to consider my options.  Hell, I’ve been in New York for a long time for me.”  
  
“You’re thinking of moving?” Phil asks, beginning to look alarmed.  Clint blinks as he realizes that maybe Phil doesn’t want him to go.  
  
“I might,” Clint says slowly. “I don’t know yet.”  He hesitates slightly, before adding, “I wouldn’t go without telling you thought. Or at least not without leaving a message here for you.”  
  
Phil frowns, but nods slowly.  Clint is surprised to realize that Phil doesn’t like this idea at all. Doesn’t want Clint to leave.  
  
“I’m...” Clint starts, reaching over to set his hand on Phil’s.  “I’m not sure I will, I’ve met some really great people.”  
  
Phil’s eyes flicker to their hands and then up to Clint’s face and gives him a small smile.  “Do I count as one of those great people?”  
  
“Yeah,” Clint nods.  He feels Phil moves his hand and just as he’s about to pull it away Phil threads his fingers through Clint’s and gives it a soft squeeze.  
  
“I’m really glad I met you,” Phil says softly.  
  
“So am I,” Clint agrees, “I like talking to you.” Clint honestly wishes he could talk to Phil about more things, but he’s not about to risk his freedom with SHIELD.  It’s only a couple more months now anyway.  
  
“I like talking to you too.  Hockey season wasn’t nearly as interesting as football season, I missed our discussions,” Phil says, making Clint’s heart soar.  
  
“I missed talking to you during basketball,” Clint admits, causing Phil to look pleased. Clint smiled at that reaction. This whole thing is new and precious and wonderful.  
  
“You should eat, before you food gets cold,” Phil says after they’ve stared at each other for a few seconds.  
  
“I need my hand back for that,” Clint says teasingly and he’s rewarded with a slight blush.  Clint’s smile widens even though he hates as Phil letting go of his hand.  They spend the afternoon talking, eating, and drinking while watching the game.  Afterwards they linger and Clint can’t help but feel an air of expectation.  
  
They spend the next month like that, meeting up for baseball.  Their touches linger a little longer each game, as do their looks.  Clint knows they’re building toward something but he’s also hesitant to let it start until he knows he’s going to be free and clear of SHIELD.  He wants to ask Phil who he works for so he can start doing his research and figuring out what he needs if he jumps to Phil’s workplace. If it was to stay near Phil Clint thinks he would even go back to a life of crime.  
  
Clint’s cast comes off and he brings a heavy duty rubber band to do strength building exercises while he watches the game.  Phil watches with an amused expression but it doesn’t take much to cajole him into helping out.  Clint knows that he’s got one or two more missions to take care of before his contract runs out but he isn’t expecting Phil to show up far more tense than he usually is and far less talkative.  Clint tries to draw him out, but nothing works.  The game comes to an end and Clint is ready to sit and wait his usual hour after the game because they don’t leave together.  
  
“Walk out with me?” Phil asks, causing Clint to look up in surprise.  
  
“Sure,” Clint says, sliding out.  Phil is quiet as they make their way through the crowd and out onto the street. “Are you okay?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Phil says, ducking out of the flow of sidewalk traffic into an alleyway. Clint follows with some trepidation.  
  
“This isn’t like you,” Clint says.  
  
“I know,” Phil says, “I wanted to tell you I’m going away.”  
  
“Going away?” Clint asks, softly.  
  
“Work,” Phil replies.  “I’ve got a long term assignment, it’s...dangerous.”  
  
Clint looks at him in alarm, studying his face and nodding, because he gets it.  Phil’s not sure he’s coming back.  
  
“I wanted to tell you,” Phil says.  “I... I wish could tell you more, but I can’t.”  
  
“It’s okay,” Clint says, reaching to rest a hand on his shoulder and pull him closer. “Our jobs have clearance levels and I don’t have clearance for your job.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Phil whispers.  
  
“I understand,” Clint says, before leaning in to kiss him.  He can’t lose Phil, not without at least a kiss.  He’s surprised when Phil responds, pushing him back against the wall. Clint groans into the kiss.  
  
Phil pulls back to look up at him, smiling.  “When I get back...”  
  
“Yeah, kick some ass and come back to me, Phil,” Clint requests.  
  
Phil pauses and smiles at him before leaning up to kiss him again.  He pulls away before it can get hot.  “You are incredible.”  
  
“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Clint replies, grinning.  
  
Phil pulls back, shaking his head.  
  
“Good luck Phil,” Clint says softly, watching him leave.  
  
Phil pauses at the alleyway entrance, “No cheering for the White Sox while I’m gone alright?”  
  
“I guess I can root for the Cubs, just for you,” Clint replies, giving him a small smile. Phil smiles at him and heads out.  
  
Clint waits a few minutes and then heads back to SHIELD.  He really doesn’t want to watch a baseball game with Phil going out there and risking his life. He wants to be by Phil’s side and watch his back.  He doesn’t know whose job that is currently but Clint doesn’t trust them because no one can be as good as Clint at it.  
  
Clint gets cleared for field work the following week with no word from Phil.  Hill is busy with something big and there’s tension in the air around the base.  Clint knows that there’s something big going on and it’s no surprise when Hill tells him to stay at HQ.  It’s another week before he gets the call. He’s put onto a jet with Hill and given a folder which he reads over carefully.  It’s a simple mission: take out the assassin known as the Black Widow.  
  
“So, why are we going after her?” Clint asks.  
  
“She took down one of our own,” Hill answers.  
  
“Yeah?” Clint asks, “Who?”  
  
“Coulson,” Hill replies and Clint lets out a low whistle.  He’s heard of Coulson. Never met the man but apparently he’s one of the best.  Hill doesn’t like him because they’re in direct competition for various promotions and they have been through most of their careers at SHIELD according to Curtis.  Personally Clint thinks Hill doesn’t like a lot of people.  One thing is for sure, she respects Coulson and his ability to get things done.  Clint eyes the picture of the Black Widow that’s in the file and he can’t put his name on it but there’s something niggling at him.    
  
That niggling feeling ratchets up when he lays eyes on her in person.  Hill has already given him the kill order and instructions to take it as soon as possible.  If he does he’s pretty much free of SHIELD.  If he doesn’t he’ll be stuck there for probably another four years despite keeping his nose clean for so long.  Clint has her in his sights but he can’t do it. Something is telling him that this is wrong.  Hill is yelling in his ear and he pulls out the comm.    
  
“Sorry Phil,” Clint mutters and then does what he’d classify as the stupidest thing he’s done to date and goes to meet with Widow face to face.  He helps her get out of SHIELD’s trap that he was involved in making. Hill is going to be pissed but Clint is already in trouble so he keeps the two of them out of reach of one another until he can convince Natasha to come in.  
  
Then he starts making calls to agents other than Hill that he thinks can get word to her superiors that the Black Widow is willing to join up.  He calls everyone he can think of and when he finally gets a call back it’s from the one agent he thought was a longshot, Sitwell.  Clint has no idea how that man came to work for SHIELD but he did and Sitwell provides him with a location to come in and promises that the Director will be waiting for them.  
  
Sitwell isn’t lying about the location.  Director Monroe is there with Deputy Director Apling, a third man with only one eye and Sitwell. Apling glares at him as he keeps Natasha behind him, trying to do what he can to protect her.  There’s a bit of smug satisfaction in Apling’s expression though and Clint wishes he knew why he looks so pleased.  Sitwell looks nervous, but Sitwell always looks nervous.  The Director’s face in unreadable, as is the third man’s Monroe directs his questions to Natasha.  
  
“Barton says you want to work for us, is that true?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you willing to provide intell on your previous jobs?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Are you willing to follow orders?”  
  
“As long as I think they’re the right ones,” Natasha replies.  
  
Monroe glances at Apling and the third man.  It’s the third man that nods slightly, Monroe looks surprised but orders them brought in.  
  
Clint isn’t surprised when this part involves handcuffs, he did technically go rogue on them, but he’s on his way back to the States and he’s lived at SHIELD HQ. It might as well be home. Clint spends the next couple of days between interrogation and a cell.  He can’t explain why he did it, he just had a gut feeling about it and it appears to be working out.  
  
After that Clint is confined to quarters and Clint doesn’t make any attempts to bust free. Hill informs him that he’s bought at least another year with this stunt.  Clint lets it slide because he managed to save Natasha’s life and two years for a life is nothing.  He’s surprised when the door opens and Natasha is there.  
  
“You’re not confined to your quarters?” Clint asks.  
  
“I broke out,” Natasha replies.  “I don’t trust them.”  
  
Clint nods in understanding, “So you decided to visit me?”  
  
“I trust you more than I do them,” Natasha offers by way of explanation.  Clint nods and sits up a bit so Natasha can join him on the bed.  It’s the only furniture he has.  She goes, curling into his side and it’s not long, before Clint realizes she’s asleep, trusting him enough to watch over her. Clint smiles because it’s a pretty big deal to him and a major improvement since a couple of weeks ago.  Clint doesn’t doze off so he’s awake to watch Deputy Director Apling sweep into his room. Clint nudges Natasha gently.  She wakes quickly as Apling looks around his room.  
  
“We’ve come to a decision,” Apling informs them, settling his eye on the pair.  
  
“And?” Clint asks when Apling decides to trail off.  
  
“You’re on suspension for the time being,” Apling states.  
  
“How much longer on my sentence?” Clint asks.  
  
“A year and half, provided the two of you play nice,” Apling says, smiling.  
  
“Two of us?” Clint repeats, glancing at Natasha.  He’s told her about his sentence and that he’s serving his time out.  She looks vaguely alarmed.  
  
“Your sentence is dependent on both yours and Widow’s behaviour,” Apling explains, grinning smugly. “You brought her in; you’d better see to it that she behaves herself.”  Now Clint understands why he’d looked so pleased in that warehouse, Clint’s stunt just extended his contract. Apling apparently wants him to stay on and something tells Clint that Apling is betting on Natasha misbehaving, so it’ll be extended even further. Clint is willing to bet on Natasha though, she’s going to make a hell of an agent.  
  
“Fine,” Clint growls, “Anything else.”  
  
“You’ll report to Hill tomorrow Barton. Romanoff, your handler will be Agent Coulson for the time being,” Fury informs them.  
  
“What?” Clint asks, “I’m responsible for her and we’re not even on the same team?”  
  
“Right now Director Monroe and I want to make sure the two of you aren’t planning something,” Apling informs them.  “Besides, Senior Agent Fury is the only one that is willing to take the risk and Coulson is the only handler of Fury’s that doesn’t have an asset.  Someone killed his last one recently.”  Apling glances at Natasha again, the message clear.  
  
Clint pauses, “Isn’t that a conflict of interest?  Hill said that Tasha took Coulson down.”  
  
“She did,” Apling agrees, “But the Director trusts Agent Coulson and we don’t trust you, Romanoff.”  
  
“Don’t trust you that much either,” Natasha replies calmly.  “Do you really think that a man I already took down before could beat me?”  
  
“Yes,” Apling says, “Coulson doesn’t make the same mistake twice.”  
  
Natasha makes a small noise which Clint takes to mean that she’ll see about that.  Apling either doesn’t hear or ignores it. Clint thinks it’s the latter.  Apling eyes both of them before turning to leave. Clint breathes a sigh of relief once he’s gone.  This could have gone so much worse.  
  
Over the next few months Clint slowly regains his privileges. He can go anywhere in HQ and then finally he can leave for the day, but he can’t because then Natasha would be alone at SHIELD.  They trust her less than do him so he can only leave when Natasha is on a mission.  He doesn’t see Phil, their schedules don’t manage to meet through all of football season and Clint fears the worse.  He finally breaks down and asks and finds that Phil hasn’t been in. Not since the night they left together. Since the night they kissed. Since the night that Phil left on that mission and wasn’t sure he was coming back.    
  
Natasha holds him close that night when he gets back to base.  Natasha may have quarters elsewhere in HQ but at least five nights a week that she’s on base she’s in his.  Clint doesn’t mind, keeps from being too lonely.  He’s talked about Phil to her and while she gives a faint air of disapproval she’s rather accepted he’s hung up on some guy. So when he comes back thinking that Phil is dead she holds him as he grieves for something he didn’t get a chance to enjoy properly.  
  
Natasha gets the okay to leave base for a short time late in January and so Clint takes her to the bar. They watch hockey.  Natasha explaining things softly in his ear and Clint tries not to think about how much better it would be if it was Phil whispering in his ear.  
  
It’s a few weeks after that when orders come down that Clint is being sent on an Op with Natasha.  Clint is expecting Coulson or Hill as their handler, instead they get Sitwell.  Clint arches his eyebrow at that and Sitwell comments, “Slightly more neutral party.”  
  
Natasha shrugs and adds, “Coulson wouldn’t approve him for running the op if he didn’t think Sitwell could handle it.”  
  
Clint nods, trusting more in Natasha’s judgment. Whenever they go on missions together it’s Sitwell that is in charge of them.  Hill complains every time he comes back injured, which is most of the time. It’s a system that works until Budapest.  
  
Budapest is when things go to hell. Natasha and he are finishing an op when Hill’s voice comes on the line. She’s got another job for him to take care of while he’s there. Clint hesitates because they need to get out, but what Hill needs is quick and Clint doesn’t want to add more time to his sentence. He lets Natasha know he’ll be delayed getting to the extraction point and goes to do his job. He never makes it to the extraction point. He gets taken down before he can even get the job done for Hill, who has made it clear that she will not save his stupid ass. He still won’t sell out the rest of SHIELD. He likes a lot of them, especially Natasha.  
  
They torture him for hours before throwing him into a cell to heal and think about more torture later on. He makes his way into the corner of the cell and finds a comfortable position and waits.  He’s on the brink of unconsciousness when he hears Natasha, opens his eyes to take in her red hair.  
  
“Can you walk?” she asks.  
  
“Maybe,” Clint croaks, voice hoarse with screaming. Natasha moves to help him to his feet.  
  
“What are you...?” Clint starts.  
  
“I came back to get you, idiot,” Natasha growls.  “What did you think you were doing?”  
  
“Hill had another job for me,” Clint admits softly, causing Natasha to curse softly in Russian.  
  
“Coulson isn’t going to happy about that,” Natasha finally says.  
  
“I’m her operative,” Clint replies.  
  
“Yes, but this was his op, he planned it and only had Sitwell running it because Hill doesn’t want another handler using you.” Natasha replies. “It’s weird, how possessive she is of you when it comes to Coulson and Fury.”  
  
“I’m nothing special,” Clint states, because he isn’t.  They make it out of the base and to a car.  Clint loses consciousness in the car.  
  
Clint wakes up as strong arms wrap around him and move him to the awaiting gurney.  He opens his eyes and looks up, “Phil?”    
  
Familiar blue eyes look meet his and a quiet voice, “Hush Clint, you’re safe now.”  Clint’s eyes close and he wonders if maybe he’s dying and finds that he doesn’t really does care if he is because Phil’s here and he’d follow Phil anywhere.  
  
When Clint wakes up later in SHIELD medical Natasha is perched on the window seat. Clint startles slightly because he’s still not used to having anyone watch over him.  Maria never did, she would appear after the doctors informed him of his ability to stay conscious for a while. Having Natasha there guarding him is... nice.  
  
“Hey,” He says, voice hoarse and horrible sounding.  
  
Natasha glances at him, “That was a stupid manoeuvre.”  
  
“Yeah, it was,” Clint agrees.  
  
“Coulson is pissed,” Natasha states.  
  
“Sorry,” Clint says, because doesn’t mean to make trouble for her.  
  
“Sorry?”  
  
“For getting your handler pissed at you.”  
  
Natasha’s eyes narrow as she looks at him, “He’s not pissed at me, He’s pissed at Hill for sending you on a secondary mission without back up.”  
  
“Huh,” Clint says, considering it. He can’t imagine Hill being pissed at anyone besides him, much less in defence of him. Still at least he isn’t getting blamed for following Hill’s stupid orders.  
  
“Do you never question orders?” Natasha asks.  
  
“If I question orders I’ll just get more time added or, worse, I’ll get sent back to prison,” Clint says, because he hates his orders a lot.  
  
“I’d break you out,” Natasha says softly. Clint smiles at that.  He knows he’s one of the few people Natasha actually enjoys being around. Clint is saved from having to say anything, because the doctors come in and check up on him.  He’s going to be out of commission for a bit but Clint doesn’t mind that much.  
  
Hill comes in to see him a day or two later. Clint tends to lose track of time in medical, it’s part of why he hates it so much.  She debriefs him with a scowl and surprisingly manages to refrain from lecturing him.  Clint comments on it to Natasha later who hums softly.  
  
“What?” Clint asks.  
  
“Have you ever worked with Coulson before?” Natasha asks.  
  
“Nope,” Clint says, “Never even met the guy.”    
  
Natasha doesn’t say anything just stares at him.  Clint knows that look, it’s the look she has when she’s got a problem that she’s trying to solve and something doesn’t add up.  
  
“What?” Clint asks.  
  
“You called him Phil,” Natasha says.  
  
“I did?” Clint asks.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“I think I was hallucinating that I...”  
  
“His first name is Phil,” Natasha interrupts.  
  
Clint stares at her, before he finally gets what she’s saying.  “You think he’s my Phil.”  
  
“He’s not acting like he doesn’t know you,” Natasha informs him.  
  
“He isn’t?” Clint asks.  
  
Natasha shakes her head slightly, “He’s been asking me on how you’re doing, it's not like he wants updates on you.”  
  
Clint grunts, wondering if he dares to hope that Phil is alive and safe. It seems unlikely, but possible.  Clint can’t do anything until he’s well enough to get out of this bed which he does as soon as he’s able.  Since he’s allowed to leave base as well he decides to make his way to the bar and nurse his wounds in private. There’s a baseball game on and he huddles in his seat and watches it.  He’s not paying attention though; he’s considering what to do. If he even wants to find Phil now.  
  
It’s a fluke that he happens to glance up to actually see Phil walk in, looking panicked as he his eyes dart to the table where Clint is seated.  Clint can see the tension roll off of him briefly, before he tenses again as he meets Clint’s eyes. The other man hesitates briefly, before making his way over; Clint doesn’t take his eyes off of him.  
  
“Clint,” he says softly.  
  
“Where the hell have you been?” Clint asks softly.  “I haven’t seen you in months!”  
  
“I... work has been really hectic,” Phil answers, studying him.  “You don’t look so hot.”  
  
“Work kicked my ass again,” Clint says.  
  
“I see, if your employer has any medical coverage, you might want to check yourself in,” Phil says slowly.  
  
Clint stares at him, before snorting.  “I just broke out.”  
  
“I’m...” Phil starts, before shut his lips firmly into a thin line.  
  
It’s not much, but it’s a tell of sorts.  Clint stares at him before asking, “Why didn’t you find me and tell me?”  
  
“I’m...” Phil starts and Clint can hear the lie so he interrupts.  
  
“I thought you were dead, I mourned you.”  
  
Phil stares at him and blinks, sighing softly, “I’m a superior agent, Clint, it’s against regs.”  
  
“You couldn’t even have told me?” Clint asks.  “You just let me think you were dead.”  
  
“When did you...?”  
  
“Tasha, after I woke the second time, said you were hovering as much as you could while keeping out of my sight. She mentioned that her handler has the same name as the guy I’ve been hung up on since before we met.”  
  
“You didn’t even try to find me?” Phil asks.  
  
“No, because I thought if you were alive you’d come back here and talk to me,” Clint says.  “All I had was your first name. I didn’t know who you worked for.  It could have been Hydra and I would have signed up with them in heartbeat just so I could be with you.”  
  
“You would have?” Phil says, blinking.  “You’re not a bad person though.”  
  
“I’ve done some shitty things in my life,” Clint says, “But getting to know you was not one of those things.  I didn’t think you were a part of a terror organization that doesn’t change the fact that the last time I saw you I would have signed up to whatever organization you belonged to.”  
  
“You already belong to SHIELD,” Phil points out softly.  “Your Hill’s best sniper.”  
  
“Well,it doesn’t fucking matter,” Clint growls as he moves to stand up, “As soon as I finish serving my time I’m out.  You won’t have to worry about seeing me again, Sir.”  
  
“Clint,” Phil says softly.  “Let me...”  
  
“No, the time for explanations was months ago,” Clint says. “Or you know when I was stuck in a hospital bed because I was too damn weak to go anywhere.  Any of those times would have been good but you waited and waited.  I don’t even know why you’re here now.”  
  
“Because you left medical without being discharged,” Phil states.  
  
Clint pauses, “Were you worried about me?”  
  
“Yes,” Phil admits softly.  
  
“That was fifteen, maybe thirty minutes for you to figure out where to look for me,” Clint says, “Try living with that for a couple of months.”  With that Clint steps around him and walks out.  
  
“Clint,” Phil pleads from behind him and Clint can hear the footsteps.  He’s not surprised when a hand land on his shoulder.  
  
“You left me,” Clint says, turning to face.  “You made your choice, Phil, and I’m making mine.  Now leave me alone.”  
  
Phil stares at him for a long moment, before nodding. “I’m sorry,”  
  
“I don’t really care,” Clint says, turning and heading back to base. He can curl up in his room and heal up in peace and quiet.  
  
Of course it doesn’t turn out that way.  Natasha is there and she listens as he tells her what happened.  She doesn’t have much advice for him but he wasn’t expecting as much.  After a couple more days he heads down to the range with his bow.  It helps him think, grounds him more than using a gun would.  When he gets back he finds his second visitor, Senior Agent Fury, seated on the desk chair that Natasha had added to the room along with a small desk.  
  
“Can I help you, sir?” Clint asks, not like having what little private space he has be invaded by the one SHIELD’s big players.  
  
“Got an offer for you,” Fury answers.  
  
“An offer?” Clint repeats warily, “I don’t think I’m interested in any offers SHIELD has.”  
  
“Oh, I think you might be interested in this one,” Fury says.  
  
Clint snorts in disbelief, it isn’t likely.  Fury is silent watching him.  
  
“You do know if Hill has her way, the only way your sentence is up early is if you leave here in body bag?”  
  
“I’d gotten that idea, yeah,” Clint agrees. He’s not fond of it but it’s the way things are.  
  
“You know you can ask for another handler?” Fury asks, giving him a long look.  
  
“So?” Clint asks.  
  
“Well, if you were my agent, I’d actually honour that agreement,” Fury says. “And not send you on a bunch of suicide missions during your last few months until you either did something they could add new time on or you died.”  
  
Clint doesn’t even try to resist the urge to laugh, “Sure you would. Besides doesn’t switching all of that have to go through the Director?”  
  
“It does,” Fury agrees with a smug grin.  
  
“You think Director Monroe will honour the agreement if you insist upon it?”  
  
“I think that by the time your agreement is up, there is going to be a new director,” Fury says.  
  
Clint stares at him for a brief moment, “I thought Apling was in line to be the next director, he’s the deputy director”  
  
“Just because he’s the deputy director, doesn’t mean that Monroe will pick him to succeed him.”  
  
“You think he’ll pick you?” Clint asks, staring at the other man.  
  
“I think that’s between me and Apling.  I think that with a few missions, with the right people, the only choice will be me.”  
  
“And you think I’m the right person?”  
  
“You, Romanoff,” Fury pauses, “Coulson.”  
  
“I don’t want anything to do with Coulson,” Clint says.  
  
“He said you might say that,” Fury replies, “Which is why I’m making the offer and not him.  Now I’m not saying you won’t have to work with him.  Coulson is... well, he’s my one good eye.”  
  
Clint arches an eyebrow, because he’s tempted to make a crack.  He even opens his mouth to, but Fury gives him a look and he shuts his mouth.  
  
“He sees things that I don’t see.  He’s got a way of judging people and situations,” Fury adds, “I can’t not have that and I think Romanoff would prefer it if he was in charge instead of Sitwell.  You’d get a few more challenging ops.”  
  
“What makes you think I want more challenging ops?”  
  
“Because you and I both know, that how Hill is using you is a waste of your talents,” Fury says.  “You are capable of bigger and better things.”  
  
Clint snorts, “Sure I am.”  
  
“Oh, you are. You talked Romanoff into coming in.”  
  
“She wanted to. She was tired of running,” Clint says dismissively.  
  
“And who saw that? Was it Hill?”  
  
“No,” Clint admits, “I did.”  
  
“And you not only got both of you out there with minimal injuries but you also managed to find someone in SHIELD to bring you back in once you made plans,” Fury says, “You should have been rewarded for that, instead you got more time tacked onto your sentence.”  
  
Clint sinks down onto the bed, running his hand over his bow.  
  
“What’s your deal currently with them?” Fury asks after a long pause.  
  
“That so long as I behave I’m done in a couple months,” Clint says softly.  
  
“Just you?” Fury asks.  
  
“No, Natasha has to behave too,” Clint adds.  
  
“And Hill sends you on a solo op in the midst of your team op that goes to hell,” Fury reminds him.  
  
“What’s your point?” Clint asks.  
  
“We both know that Hill would have left you there, wouldn’t have signed off on an op to get you back,” Fury says, waiting for Clint’s slight nod.  “Do you think Natasha would have let you there, even knowing all that?”  
  
Clint pauses, “Probably not.”  His hands squeeze around the limbs of his bow.  “So she would have gotten me back and I’d have more time to serve.”  
  
“Good thing she waited. Good thing Sitwell was smart enough to find me immediately when Romanoff reported that you went off so that when you didn’t show at the evac point I was there to authorize her going after you,” Fury says softly, meeting his look.  
  
“So what’s your deal?” Clint asks.  
  
“You work for me until your time is up,” Fury says.  “But if I’m made director before then I’ll let you go early.”  
  
“If you aren’t?”  
  
“Well, if it’s Apling, we’ll both be going on suicide missions until we don’t come back,” Fury says.  
  
Clint stares at him, “So, basically, switch handlers and hope for the best.  How do I know you won’t screw me over?”  
  
“You don’t,” Fury says, “But you know Apling is going to screw you over.  He’s the one that instructed Hill to send you on that solo op after all.”  
  
“So, basically, I know I’m screwed with him and Hill so I should sign up with you because I don’t know you’re going to screw me over?”  
  
“Pretty much,” Fury agrees.  He casts a considering look at Clint before adding, “I don’t need your answer now. Think about it. Paperwork is on the desk. You don’t want to then hold onto it in case you change your mind.”  He moves to stand up.  
  
“That’s it? You’re not going to try and force me to join up?” Clint asks.  
  
“No one can force you to do anything. I mean part of the reason you hate the Iowa Hawkeyes, because everyone says you should be cheering for them due to your codename,” Fury replies. “You don’t admit you hate them but you can’t help but feel good every time they lose.”  
  
Clint stares at him because he never admitted that to anyone. Fury has very good intelligence.  
  
“I’d switch soon if I were you though, you hit the range today and your time is coming. Apling will convince Hill to put you out there without medical clearance,” Fury says, “My offer is only good if you’re alive.”  
  
“Right,” Clint says softly.  Fury gives him one last look before leaving.  Clint strokes his bow as he thinks about this.  He’s met Apling several times and doesn’t like the man at all.  Fury is alright though.  
  
It’s not long before Natasha comes back and she pauses at the desk, looking at what is undoubtedly the form that Fury had left. She doesn’t say anything before going to settle down next to him.  
  
“Not going to offer advice?” Clint asks.  
  
“Do I need to?” she asks.  
  
“Maybe,” Clint says, because he’s kind of curious what she thinks.  
  
“You should do it.  Hill doesn’t care what happens to you,” Natasha replies.  
  
“You think Fury will?”  
  
“He approved me going after you,” Natasha replies.  “He convinced Director Monroe to let me live and work with you despite Apling telling him not to.”  
  
“Apling didn’t approve of you?” Clint asks.  
  
“No, nor was he happy when Hill decided to stand up for you afterwards,” Natasha adds.  
  
“Never realized,” Clint says, frowning.  
  
Natasha stares at him before cursing softly.  “You’ve worked here for three years and you're completely unaware of the politics?”  
  
“Yep,” Clint replies.  “Never planned for this to be long term.”  
  
“Well, you’re in the middle of it now. Apling and Fury have been sniping at one another for years.  Apling brought Hill in when he realized that Fury had back up in Coulson,” Natasha explains.  “Apling uses people and discards them, Fury doesn’t. Neither does Coulson.”  
  
“So you think I should?” Clint asks.  
  
“I think you have a better chance at surviving if you do,” Natasha says softly, “And I’d rather see you live through this.”  
  
Clint nods, before nudging her, “Go get the paper.”  
  
“Get it yourself, Barton. Its two steps away.”  
  
“But I’m injured,” Cint whines.  
  
“No,” Natasha replies, leaning back.  Clint smiles softly, before pushing himself up to grab it.  He signs the forms and goes to lie back, but finds Natasha’s leg blocking him. “Now go turn it in.”  
  
Clint laughs and goes to do that.  Hill is pissed when she finds out but she can’t do anything Nor can Apling.  Apparently this was approved by the Director.  Missions suddenly go a lot smoother with Fury running them.  He gets teamed up with Tasha more often and for the most part it’s Fury in his ear, but every so often he gets Coulson in his ear.  He can’t help but feel slightly antagonistic toward Coulson and when the other man makes a call that he doesn’t agree with  Clint chooses to mouth off and tell him off exactly what is wrong with his plan.  He changes where his nest goes because he can see a better spot and succeeds.  When Coulson is there for the briefing and he finds that the other man is going to be in charge of the mission Clint decides to take the bow instead of the rifle.  He still succeeds and doesn’t bother hiding the smug grin on the way home.  Coulson lets him down when he doesn’t write him up for using a bow.  Natasha doesn’t comment and neither does Fury, though the next mission for Fury he gets instructed to bring the medieval technology along. Clint is pleasantly surprised. (Coulson always tells him to bring a gun, Clint never listens.)  
  
Clint comes back for a mission and HQ is buzzing and everyone seems tense.  Clint debriefs with Sitwell because both Fury and Coulson are in a meeting and then he’s left to his own devices.  Clint lingers just long enough to figure that something has happened with the Director and no one is quite sure what. According to some it’s because of Apling, according to others its Fury and Clint realizes that the split between them is a lot bigger than he realized.  Clint wants no part of this so heads to the bar.  
  
There’s a football game on and Clint sighs happily when he takes a sip of his beer.  He’s not on duty he can have a drink.  It’s not long before Natasha shows up and takes a seat next to him, poking him until he wraps an arm around her then she opens up a book and starts reading.  It’s peaceful, far better than SHIELD. The noon game ends and they’re into the three-thirty game when Clint glances up to see Coulson threading through the tables toward them.  
  
“Meetings must be over,” Natasha says, before going back to her book.  Coulson stops at the bar and gets his own beer before joining them.    
  
He settles into the chair, setting his beer down, and peers at the TV as he starts loosening his tie, “Northwestern?”  
  
“Won,” Clint replies.  
  
Coulson nods, “Cyclones?”  
  
“Won.”  
  
“Congrats.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
“Seriously?” Natasha asks, “You used to go on and on about these long football conversations you had.”  
  
“That was before,” Clint says, as Coulson says, “Bit tired.” Clint glances at him and he looks tired. Clint nudges his leftover fries toward him.  Coulson’s lips quirk upward before he digs in to them.  The three of them spend the rest of the evening together.  When the games are over they head out and surprisingly Coulson turns to head back to HQ with them.  
  
“You live at HQ?” Clint asks.  
  
“No but there’s going to be plenty of paperwork to fill out tomorrow so I might as well as stay there,” Coulson replies.  
  
“Paperwork for?” Natasha asks.  
  
“You’ll find out on Monday with the rest of SHIELD,” Coulson replies, a soft smile gracing his lips and causing Natasha to smile.  
  
“Should we start calling you Deputy Director Coulson?” Clint asks, because he can see how satisfied Phil is.  
  
Coulson laughs, “No, definitely not. There’s someone much more suited to be Fury’s second in command.”  
  
“I thought you were his one good eye,” Clint points out.  
  
“I am, which means I’ll be needed in the field, whereas the deputy director rarely goes into the field,” Coulson explains.  
  
“So who's it going to be?” Clint asks.  
  
“I think Fury is following that old adage, keep your enemies close,” Coulson replies.  
  
“Apling?” Clint asks.  
  
Natasha snorts, before correcting him, “Hill.”  
  
“Really?” Clint asks, looking at both of them.  
  
“Hill will keep Fury on his toes, won’t let him become complacent like Monroe,” Coulson explains.  
  
“And you would?” Clint asks, because he can’t see it.  
  
“Fury and I have known each other too long,” Coulson says, “We’ve been friends since we were in the Rangers. I’d never mean to, but it could happen.”  
  
“Plus it starts healing the rift that was there,” Natasha adds. “It’s a good move.” Clint nods slowly, and they fall silent as they approach HQ.  It’s not long before Coulson peels away from them, heading to his office or maybe he has some quarters on base.  Natasha follows Clint to his room and they curl up in the bed together.  
  
Natasha drags him out on Sunday to play tourist because she doesn’t want to hole up in the bar and those on duty are still tense. Tourist turns into a minor shop and eventually Natasha shoos him out of one of the stores.  Clint goes to take a walk around the block and pauses in front of diner with a For Sale sign on it. He tilts his head because Fury said that once he made Director Clint would be free to go and Clint isn’t sure what he wants to do with his life now.  
  
“Can you even cook?” Natasha asks, shoving a bag into his hand.  
  
“Used to,” Clint says.  
  
“No,” Natasha says, wrapping her arm around his and getting him to move.  
  
“What do you mean no?  I’m going to be a free man soon,” Clint says. “Need to figure out what I want to do with my life.”  
  
“You’re not buying a diner,” Natasha states.  
  
“I’d be close to SHIELD, you could come visit me when you’re in town,” Clint argues.  
  
“It’d be a waste of your talents,” Natasha points out.  
  
“My talent of killing people?”  
  
Natasha glares at him, dragging him in to a Chinese restaurant.  Clint trails along, because he’s hungry.  They don’t get seats, Natasha apparently called ahead and she takes the takeaway bags, before they head back to SHIELD. Once inside Natasha guides him down an unfamiliar hallway and opens one of the doors.  
  
“Break time, we brought food,” Natasha says, going straight in without knocking. Clint pauses in the doorway to take in the office and Phil Coulson behind the desk. He hesitates, eyes flickering to Natasha and then back to Coulson, before he enters and takes a seat on the couch.  
  
Natasha looks smug as she starts passing out the food and Coulson looks tired but happy.  They dig into their meals, all three are hungry.  
  
“Coulson will you tell Clint that opening a diner is a stupid idea?” Natasha says, ending the conversational lull.  
  
“You want to open a diner?” Coulson asks, looking at him.  
  
“Need something to do with my life after SHIELD,” Clint replies.  
  
“You going to quit?” Coulson asks.  
  
“That’s the deal I have with Fury,” Clint says, meeting his gaze.  
  
“What I meant was you still want to leave?” Coulson asks.  
  
Clint nods, “There’s not much for me here.”  
  
Coulson gives him a long look, “Alright.”  
  
Clint blinks, “That’s it? You’re not going to try to talk me out of it?”  
  
“I’d prefer if you did stay Agent Barton,” Coulson says, calmly, “But you’re an adult, you can make your own decisions and I will respect your decisions, even if I don’t agree with them.”  
  
Clint stares at him because he feels like Coulson was also talking about them.  He glances at Natasha who rolls her eyes but nods slightly. She thinks the same thing.  Clint lets it drop and tries to change the topic, “So think the Cubs have a chance of going all the way?”  
  
Coulson smiles, “We certainly have a chance, just like we do every year.” They descend into talking about sports with Natasha glaring at them.  She doesn’t get baseball at all.  
  
The next day it’s official, Fury is taking over as director starting in one week.  Apling is out, fired and removed from the premises.  Fury doesn’t make any decisions regarding who his deputy director will be just yet.  The money is all Coulson though.  Clint and Natasha stay out of the betting pool.  The only thing that is surprising is the speed at which Fury is taking over, though it explains Coulson working on paperwork all weekend.  
  
On Tuesday, Clint gets called into Fury’s office where they discuss Clint’s plans for SHIELD.  Clint is firm in wanting to go, even though the pile of benefits, promotions, and backpay is impressive.  Clint still refuses and Fury agrees to let him go.  
  
Fury takes over the following Monday as planned with hardly any notice. Clint find an apartment outside of SHIELD and, the following Wednesday, cleans out his barracks.  Natasha helps him set up the place but goes back to SHIELD.  He’s alone for the first time in a long time. He gets bored and books a flight back to Iowa and finds himself in Iowa City using his funds to scalp a ticket to the Cy-Hawk game.  The seats are high but Clint doesn’t care. He can see the field just fine.  He sees the Cyclones take the lead early on and the Hawkeyes come back, tying the game late in the third and then getting another touchdown in the fourth quarter and field goal for the win.  Clint bums around the town afterward. He drives up to Ames, Waverly, and Cedar Falls for a couple day and then gives up and flies back to New York.  
  
Clint goes back to SHIELD HQ the following Monday and is escorted to Director Fury’s office.  
  
“Mr. Barton, what can I do for you?” Fury asks as Clint takes a seat.  
  
“I’d like my job back,” Clint says.  
  
Fury smiles, “Would you now?”  
  
“Yeah,” Clint admits.  
  
“Damnit,” Fury growls, causing Clint to arch an eyebrow.  
  
“Sir?”  
  
“I owe Coulson ten dollars, he was sure you’d be back within the month,” Fury explains.  
  
“Really?”  
  
Fury looks at him, before nodding.  “Coulson thought you just needed proof that you could walk away and we wouldn’t try to stop you.”  
  
“I guess so,” Clint says, because he can’t really say why he’s back. ”And what if I hadn’t come back?”  
  
“Widow would eventually have mission where she’d want you to watch her back and she’d have brought you back in,” Fury replies.  “She doesn’t trust very many snipers to watch her back, you know.”  
  
Clint smirks, “No, she doesn’t.”  
  
Fury turns and digs through a stack of folders before finding one and tossing it to him.  “Deals the same as it was two weeks ago, except for one thing.”  
  
“What’s that?” Clint asks.  
  
“I’m not doing this tiptoeing around you and Coulson crap anymore,” Fury states, “You’ll work with who I want you to, when I want you to.”  
  
“This wasn’t part of the deal we made,” Clint reminds him.  
  
“No, and if you’d asked for it two weeks ago when I was trying to convince you to stay on you might have gotten it,” Fury replies.  “You left and now you’re coming to me so new deal. Unless you’d rather go sit in that empty apartment of yours?”  
  
Clint stares at him before sighing, “Fine.”  
  
It takes a few minutes for them to complete the paperwork and then he’s dismissed. When Clint gets to the door Fury asks, “So what made you change your mind?”.  
  
“I watched the Cyclones shoot themselves in the foot, decided leaving SHIELD was pretty much doing the same thing,” Clint explains with a shrug.  
  
“Alright,” Fury says.  Clint’s hand makes it to the door handle before he speaks up.  “Though I think you’re shooting yourself in the foot when it comes to Coulson.”  
  
Clint pauses and glances over at Fury who has his head down.  “What do you mean?”  
  
“You can do a lot worse than Phil,” Fury says, looking up at him.  “You brought Widow in; you made yourself a player in the game between Apling and myself. If Apling got wind of your mutual interest in one another, he’d have had Hill put more pressure on you, try to hurt Phil through you, so he kept his distance.  Now I’m not saying it was the right decision, but he did what he thought best.  Give him another chance Barton.”  
  
“That an order, Sir?” Clint asks.  
  
“Does it need to be?” Fury asks. When Clint doesn’t respond, “Go hit the range and think about it. You’re dismissed Agent.”  
  
This time Fury lets him leave and Clint decides to head to the range.  He doesn’t figure things out by the time he finishes up, but he thinks he knows what he wants to do now.  The actual doing has to wait because when he exits the range he gets a bag tossed at him which he catches and apparently gains a roommate in Natasha.  
  
“So what you were waiting for me to come back to move in?” Clint asks from the doorway as she takes over the spare bedroom.  
  
“I wasn’t going to marry you to have you as a roommate,” Natasha replies and that’s it.  Clint smiles and leaves her to her unpacking.  She comes back out and makes disparaging comments about the shape of his apartment and the lack of furniture.  
  
Clint is busy the rest of the week and to avoid being dragged along when Natasha goes to furniture shopping he goes to the bar.  He watches the noon games and realizes something is missing and goes to SHIELD, walks hallways he’s been down once and isn’t surprised to find the light on and door open to the office.  Phil Coulson is working on a Saturday.  
  
“Break time,” Clint announces from the doorway.  
  
Coulson looks up from his work and arches an eyebrow. “I need to finish this.”  
  
“Is the world going to end if you don’t?” Clint asks.  
  
“No,” Phil replies  
  
“Then break time, let’s go watch the game.”’  
  
“You want me to watch the game with you?”  
  
“Yeah,” Clint says with a nod. “Now will you get a move on, Cyclones are playing Texas.”  
  
“I’m surprised you left,” Phil says, but he’s moving to get up.  Clint waits impatiently and then hustles him back. They miss most of the first quarter. Clint is fine, because apparently they gave up 16 points and only managed to get a touchdown. The game goes badly and by the end of third quarter Texas is leading 37 -14 and then there’s the rain delay...    
  
“Man, I’m tempted to pack it in,” Clint says, watching the coverage of just how badly it’s raining in Austin, Texas.  
  
“They could still win it,” Phil suggests.  
  
“Yeah,” Clint agrees, but he doesn’t think they will.  “Should I ask them to find the North-western game? They haven’t played yet today, or are they off?”  
  
“They played last night.”  
  
“Oh, how’d they do?“They lost to Nevada.”  
  
Clint huffs softly, “Guess we’re having a pretty lousy weekend.”  
  
“I wouldn’t say that,” Phil says and Clint catches the smile on his face and can’t help but echo it on his own.  
  
“Our teams lost,” he reminds him.  
  
“My team lost, your team is losing,” Phil corrects him.  “Besides there’s more to life than football.”  
  
“Yeah, I guess so,” Clint agrees, resting his hand over Phil’s which only makes the other man’s smile widen.  The Cyclones don’t come back in that game but they also don’t let Texas score again.  The Cyclones may have lost but Clint feels like he won something bigger than any football game could ever be.  
  



End file.
